Candy and Karma
by HowNowWit
Summary: It takes a carpet stain and pink M&Ms for the waiting to end. One-shot. Rizzles. Fluff.


Candy and Karma

It takes a carpet stain and pink M&Ms for the waiting to end.

Sounds ridiculous, but life's that way sometimes.

The dance back and forth had been going on for so many years, it seemed it would take a force of God to bring the two limitless hyperbolic functions to their impossible point of convergence. (At least, that's how Maura put it. Jane thought of it as karma having an affair with fate and producing an illicit love child.)

But it was just a meeting of wine and expensive polypropylene that drew those limits together at last. Such a small spill for such a monumental moment.

Pinot Noir. Two glasses. Fresh bag of candy for Valentine's Day. (Courtesy of Jane's mother and Target's early discounts.)

They sat shoulder to shoulder at Maura's kitchen island. Familiar. Routine. Maura sipped, savored the sharp flavor, closed her eyes as she enjoyed the aroma. Her glass forgotten, Jane crunched on the small pink-coated candies in the decorative glass bowl.

Maura glanced up when something pinged off her shoulder. Jane kept crunching. Casual. Slouched back on her stool. She paused, candy half to her mouth, and met Maura's eyes after a moment, as though sensing the scrutiny.

"What?" she asked, eyebrows raised. Completely innocent.

Maura's eyes narrowed. She sipped again, cautious, shifted her bare feet along the wooden rung. Jane just crunched.

_Hmmm_. Maura drew the glass to her lips again—

The next one bounced off her nose. Eyes wide, Maura glared at Jane, now holding back laughter. The M&M pinged and rattled as it bounced along the floor.

"Sorry," Jane managed around suppressed mirth. She covered her mouth with a pink-stained hand.

"Pick something else besides my wine glass for your basketball shenanigans." The chastisement might have worked if her lips hadn't twitched with amusement on the last word.

Jane's expression became sly. She picked up another pink missile. Tossed it into the air. Once. Twice.

Maura watched with growing suspicion, curling her glass close to her chest.

Then Jane held it up, poised, as though aiming.

Maura moved off the stool, backing toward the den. "No. Nooo…"

Jane outright grinned.

"Stop it," Maura scolded, pulling her glass out to the side, behind her, and holding up a warning finger. "You'll splash…"

Jane sighed, lowering her ammo and slouching back into her stool. "Fine."

Maura chuckled and headed for the couch. She never made it.

A noise from behind her, then _wine_. Everywhere. (That was Maura's version. Jane maintains to this day it was just a small _ploink _and a cupful of red on the floor.)

Regardless, the stain was there. Red and revealing.

"Three pointer!" Jane crowed, tossing her hands into the air.

"Dammit, Jane," Maura cried, arms held out from her body as she surveyed the damage. "I just got the carpet cleaned."

Jane hopped up. "I'll clean it."

"No, you'll just make it worse. This is a special blend—"

Jane appeared with a dishcloth and cleaner, already kneeling.

"Don't rub." Maura hurried and set her glass aside. "I'll just call the—"

"I said I'd fix it."

Both on hands and knees, Maura covered Jane's hand to still her rough movements.

"I know how to clean, Maur," Jane protested.

"I'm aware," Maura said, grabbing Jane's hand and stopping her at last. "But that type of pressure will only soak the stain deeper into the fibers. It will make it harder for the professionals to remove. If you want to help, just dab." She squeezed Jane's hand to lessen the sting of the reproach. "Gently. Like this."

Jane stilled as Maura took her hand and guided it over the crimson carpet. She noticed their proximity. Noticed the silence in the house except for their breathing. Noticed the warmth of Maura's palm as it covered the back of her own scarred one. She caught the scent of Maura's shampoo. Years later, Jane would still swear she felt a shiver of premonition. It rattled her bones in the most pleasant of ways, and settled in her chest, making her breathless.

Perhaps Maura felt the change. She paused her dabbing and just let her hand rest atop Jane's. They stared at the point of contact. Silent, pensive. They both looked up at the same time. Foreheads and noses bumped and brushed. Surprised at their proximity, they leaned away, but only enough to pull each other into focus.

Eyes met and held. The tips of their noses still brushed. It sparked like an electrical current, speeding pulses. Jane remembers warm breath and comforting hazel. Maura remembers long eyelashes and beckoning caramel.

Neither can remember who moved first.

A mutual head tilt, slight in the small space between them, and lips brushed. Just a whisper at first, as though asking permission. Lingering. Then a longer taste. Soft and sure. Pliant. With just a hint of chocolate.

Jane thought it was perfect.

But then Maura pulled away and rested her forehead against Jane's. She let out a deep breath, eyes still closed as though processing.

Jane blinked and swallowed, watched Maura's eyes flutter. As the seconds passed, uncertainty squirmed in her stomach. "Maur—"

Maura shook her head and snaked a hand around Jane's neck. She pulled their mouths back together, more firmly this time. This kiss was deeper, exploring. Jane melted into it. The hand on her neck tangled in the curls at her nape, and Jane smiled into the kiss. She felt Maura's answering smile and tugged on her lower lip, playful. Testing. Maura made a noise that sent tingles racing over her skin.

They parted, and Jane upturned her own hand, still clasped with Maura's, so they met palm to palm. Breathing into the silence, their noses still brushed, as though any space between them would break the spell.

Maura let out a breathy chuckle.

"Jane?"

She felt more than heard her name. Unable to resist, Jane pressed her lips to Maura's once more. Quick. It burned like lightening.

"Yeah?" she breathed.

Maura tapped the forgotten dishrags, now stained red. "These are my _nice_ dishcloths. You couldn't have pulled some from the pantry?"

So it was that destiny had a helping hand from spilled wine and pink M&Ms. Maura still attests to the fact that two limits can form a tangent – as long as chocolate is involved. And every new year thereafter, Maura found pink M&Ms in random spots throughout the house the days leading up to Valentine's.

Jane played ignorant. Jo Friday played _find that treat_.

Maura never tried to hide her smiles.

...

A/N: Wrote this silly, fluffy piece in less than an hour. Based off a pic fic someone posted on tumblr. It gave me ideas. I had to write them down. Hope you enjoyed it.


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